Kanye West has repeatedly called kiD CuDi his "favorite living artist" ("and not just cause he's on my label," he assured us on Twitter). CyHi Da Prince excepted, West's taste in musicians is usually sound, and CuDi is talented. His taste for forlorn melody, chilly electronics, and empty space basically brought 808s and Heartbreak into existence, and his fingerprints are visible all over Kanye's upcoming My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. As a member of Kanye's revolving door of creative inspiration, he has proven himself to be indispensable.
As a solo artist, well... his second full-length, Man on the Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager manages to render the jury still out. His 2009 debut, Man on the Moon: The End of the Day, was a modest commercial success but a mortifying creative face-plant, a compilation of the most two-dimensional art-school-kid clichés (I'm sad, I'm stoned, I'm deep) imaginable, over unrelievedly monotonous electro tracks. It was hard to find a more self-satisfied and less likable pop record that year. Man on the Moon II, the sequel, is still a bumpy listen, but it tweaks his formula enough to at least hint at the massive promise Kanye sees in him.
First, and most crucially, he perks up the tempo a little. After Man on the Moon came out, CuDi told MTV.com that his next album was "gonna be the complete opposite of what Man on the Moon was. Man on the Moon was so serious. This one is gonna be more playful and fun. It's about having a good time." It's not, really, unless he's referring to all his dead-eyed bragging about how fucked-up he's capable of getting. But the music is brighter: "Erase Me" is a chugging guitar-rock song with a big, slick chorus that could have sat comfortably on late-90s alt-rock radio. (It also features a Kanye verse that ends with a ridiculous "diarrhea" pun.) On "REVOFEV", he dispenses aw-shucks big-brother wisdom like, "Things might get tough/ No need to stress," over a tumble of piano chords and acid-rock guitar.
Even his trademark sadface stuff, though, is more fully realized. "Don't Play This Song" starts with a somber, harmonically rich string quartet and adds a throbbing pulse and a wailing Mary J. Blige; the track's elements shift slowly and subtly, giving the groove a fluid and hypnotic feel that Cudi echoes with his stuttering "ra-ra-ra-ra-right" delivery. CuDi's lyrics, though, still carry a wince-inducing "Bill and Ted" ring to them. The chorus of "Don't Play This Song" goes: "Wanna know what I sound like when I'm not on drugs?/ Please, please don't play this song," which I would feel comfortable interpreting as pure comedy if he didn't say, "I love the dark, maybe we can make it darker/ Give me a marker," in dead earnest on "Maniac", a song that gathers a St. Vincent sample, CuDi, and emo-rapper Cage in the same room for probably the first and last time.
Thematically, Mr. Rager is most compelling when it leaves behind moping alone in your room for moping while you're out on the town-- being a coked-up asshole. CuDi's blank, artless affect makes a more interesting vehicle for these semi-poisonous sentiments: "Hide the pain with some pussy and mimosas," he mutters on "Wild'N Cuz I'm Young". The only true biographical detail we get on Mr. Rager hints at his troubled family-- "I wish I could tell my brother/ Something for motivation to get him out that gutter/ He's leaving behind a family and a mother" ("Mojo So Dope")-- and also provides a glimpse of what CuDi's music might sound like if he provided actual emotional content instead of just gesturing repeatedly towards it.
